Desert Desertion
by Loopstagirl
Summary: A broken engine makes getting home for one Tracy a little harder than usual.


_Still don't own anything between this story and the last, so only playing with them and then having to give them back._

_Thought I would challenge myself to get something out as things have been a struggle lately, and this is what came from it. Hope everyone likes it._

* * *

Virgil sighed, wiping damp hair from his forehead as he blew out the long breath that he had been holding and arched his back. The sun was burning down on him and he knew it was only thanks to being in the shade of Thunderbird Two that stopped him from completely roasting. Still, it was far hotter than he was happy with, especially considering he had spent the last few hours cramped in the tight space of the engine compartments. For a machine so big, he would have thought that Brains could have designed more space around the engines for Virgil to crawl around when things went wrong.

At least now he thought he knew what was wrong. The craft had been fine on the way out to the rescue and it hadn't even needed to do anything too strenuous once it was there apart from providing a lift for some fallen debris. But as soon as Virgil had taken off, he knew something was wrong. He had kept quiet, knowing that Scott was just as desperate to get home as he was. He had honestly thought that the engine would hold, but they had only been flying for ten minutes before he had warning lights flashing at him.

He wasn't quick enough to connect to the island without Scott picking up on something was wrong, and once that had happened, Virgil knew he would be left with no choice but to land. Not that he could truly blame Scott, he knew it would be a long time before his brother got the image out of his head of Thunderbird Two in an uncontrolled dive, smoke pouring from the machine and no answer from his little brother. If he was honest, Virgil had no desire to experience something like that again either, despite having shrugged it off as best as he could at the time. Thankfully, with John tracking their progress, he was able to steer his brothers down into a deserted patch of land before anything worse happened.

Virgil had managed to convince Scott to head back to Base to get Brains and any supplies Virgil thought they might need. He had watched as Thunderbird One had become nothing more than a streak in the sky, then realised that it was just him and Thunderbird Two in the middle of what seemed to be a desert. John had tried to help for a while, but the constant questions had grated on Virgil and he had eventually cut the radio with an apology. He was sure that John would then turn his questions to Brains, but Virgil didn't care.

It meant he had peace.

Despite having spent most of the time Scott had been gone in the engines of Two, Virgil was just beginning to realise how quiet it was out here. He wasn't sure he could hear anything apart from his own breathing and the occasional stirring of the sand tapping against the metal of his 'bird. As he stretched out, Virgil found that he was looking around, stepping away from the shade of the machine as he did so. One hand came up to shield his eyes as he took in his surroundings and Virgil realised that he was literally in the middle of nowhere.

There was nothing but sand for as far as the eye could see. Yet Virgil couldn't help but notice there was some sort of beauty to the landscape. It was a harsh beauty, but it was there nonetheless. Virgil wondered if any of the rest of the family would appreciate the sight in front of them, or whether it was just because he had an eye for detail that made him realise just how inspiring it was. He was surrounded by sand, but there seemed to be a contrast within the colours causing a spiralling pattern that was taking Virgil's breath away.

It was only when he could feel a bead of sweat beginning to roll down his neck that Virgil realised he was simply standing in the sun staring. Wincing, he hurried back to the shade of Thunderbird Two, almost breathing a sigh of relief as he realised how much cooler it was. He made a mental note not to tell his grandmother what he had just done before heading back into the machine. He shivered as he entered the coolness, feeling the sweat cool as the sun was effectively shut out. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked the length of the craft, eventually pulling a bottle of water out of a chilled cabinet and taking a long draught. He couldn't stop his hand from resting lovingly on the wall of his 'bird. It wasn't often he actually had the chance to be in her without flying off to some rescue.

Telling himself it was just to check that there was no other damage other than the engines, Virgil put the drink down and set off on a thorough explore. There were some parts of the 'bird he wasn't sure he had been in since she had been built. He knew that Gordon often roamed around on a flight home, especially if Thunderbird Four was on board and he was heading towards the pod. But Virgil was suddenly feeling the drawbacks of never letting his brother near the controls. He never got the chance to do this.

There was a childish grin on his face as he explored. There was nothing he had forgotten about as such, but the scale of some of the equipment stored away in the back of the Thunderbird sent a rush of excitement shooting through him. He could spend hours just looking over the craftsmanship of some of the parts, knowing that Brains' effort had certainly paid off.

In fact, he did spend hours. He let his hands dance over everything he touched, losing himself in the machinery surrounding him and realising, not for the first time, just how lucky he was. These sorts of circuits would be any engineers dream come true, and he had the whole lot just in front of him. Eventually, his stomach grumbling made him wander away again and Virgil grimaced when he realised that instead of the glorious spread his grandmother would have had waiting for them when they got back from the rescue, he was stuck with something instant from Two's supplies.

Despite the ship actually being stocked with enough for someone to survive almost a month on board, Virgil had only eaten something twice. Once was enough for him to realise that it was not something he wanted to be doing again, the second was desperation. This time as well, he knew he didn't have a choice. He was starving and had no idea how long it would take Scott to get back or Brains then to fix whatever the problem was. He knew as soon as they arrived he would be so caught up with the repairs himself that he wouldn't even think about food, so Virgil gritted his teeth and forced himself to tear open the packet.

The only comfort was that he could sit sprawled in his control chair, watching the light breeze blowing swirls of sand around the desert in front of him. It was enough for him almost to forget what it was he was putting in his mouth, but not quite. Not considering today would have been a day that lunch would have been better than normal. The thought was somewhat depressing and succeeded in completely putting Virgil off the rest of his meal. Distastefully, he cast the container aside and leant back, rocking slightly on his chair.

He had looked as best as he could at the engines and knew that it was just a matter of simply tightening something. It was frustrating that he didn't have the equipment here, but at least he had been able to radio through to the island precisely what Brains needed to bring with him. But until they got here, there was nothing Virgil could actually do towards helping to fix his own 'bird. It grated on him; it would have been worse not knowing compared to knowing and being able to do nothing about it. He might not have had many plans for the day, but being stuck in the middle of a desert with nothing to do was not one of them.

Virgil suddenly sat up straighter, realising that he was wrong. There was something to do! Quickly as he could, he moved back through the craft until he reached a room that looked remarkably like a bedroom. It had never been used, but they were never quite sure whether they would ever need somewhere to rest that wasn't the infirmary. Virgil had no idea what Brains had had in mind when he designed the Thunderbird, but was thankful to him now. Despite never having used the room, Virgil had made sure he placed a few home comforts in it. If he was ever going to be stuck somewhere, he had to make sure he didn't either murder whichever brother he was stuck with or die of boredom himself.

Now, however, he had never been so grateful for it. Within only a few moments of the idea coming into his head, Virgil was curled back up in his chair with a sketchpad balanced on his knee and a pencil resting lightly in his hand. Swinging his legs up onto the controls, he made sure that he wasn't about to hit anything by accident, made himself comfortable and began to draw.

Within seconds, he was completely absorbed in the task at hand. It was as if everything that had happened up to this point was gone from his mind. He didn't even care that he was stranded in the middle of a desert with no idea how long it was going to be until he could get out of here. All Virgil was focusing on was the brush of the pencil across the paper and the movement of his hand. As with every other time the artist allowed his imagination take over and simply drew, everything else faded out.

Virgil had never put it to the test just how much he zoned reality out when he was concentrating on his art. So when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and it was only through an ungainly jerk of his wrist that stopped him from drawing a smudge straight across the centre of his work did he realise precisely how focused he had been. Scott was standing beside him, an amused look on his face as he stared down at his brother.

"You turned the radio off." He said bluntly, causing Virgil to simply blink at him for a moment as he tried to get his head back into reality.

"Huh?"

Scott smiled, shaking his head as he took the pad out of Virgil's hands, despite the protests that came with his actions. Virgil lunged for it, his usual shyness about not wanting anyone to see his work coming to the front of his mind rather than thinking about how Scott was here without him having seen or heard anything. There was a smile of wonder on Scott's face as he stared at the drawing and Virgil found himself blushing.

"It's not very…"

"If you say good, I'm leaving you here. All I see in this desert is sand. Do you really see all of this?" Virgil nodded softly, knowing that he would not be able to explain to his brother how the images just revealed themselves in ways that were beyond words.

"How are you here already?"

"Virg, I think you might have been sitting here for hours considering all the automatic lighting was off when I got here. I landed behind you, although considering I got on board without you hearing anything makes me wish I had landed in front just to see if you noticed."

"I would have, you'd be blocking the view," Virgil mumbled, going redder than before. He would have never said that he would be able to work through Thunderbird One landing and not notice. Then again, nothing about this situation was normal anyway.

"You really didn't hear a thing, did you?" There was a note of incredulity in Scott's voice and Virgil sank into the chair, deciding that he couldn't possibly go any redder. Scott chuckled, reaching over and ruffling his brother's hair. Virgil quickly batted his hand away and snatched his book back, hiding it under the seat. Scott's eyebrows raised in amusement but Virgil shrugged.

"Are we getting on and fixing this thing or what?" He muttered, climbing to his feet properly. He instantly felt what Scott had been saying about him sitting there for hours as his legs cramped and he almost fell as his knees buckled. He half grabbed Scott, half grabbed his chair as he fought against gravity. It took a few moments, but eventually Virgil was able to straighten up again. He did so, pretending nothing had happened as he continued towards the door, pointedly ignoring that Scott was almost shadowing him in case he should fall again. He knew telling his brother to go away wouldn't do any good; not considering John had already managed to make him do it once already.

But when he reached the door and squinted out into the sun, Virgil blinked. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, convinced that he must have been seeing things before looking again. But there was no denying it. Someone had tied a balloon onto the lever that served as a door handle to Two.

"Um, Scott… You were supposed to bring equipment. I know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, but even you can tell the difference between a balloon and a spanner, right?"

"Don't be an idiot, Virg," Virgil ducked on reflex and grinned when Scott's hand shot over his head, clearly intending to have made contact. "It was Grandma's idea, she was mortified that you missed lunch."

"What?"

"Virg, if you can't make it back on your own birthday, we're bringing it to you. Now come on, let's give Brains a hand and we might get back before Gordon eats all the cake."

"There's cake?" The childish excitement Virgil had been feeling while exploring returned in full swing, causing Scott to laugh.

"Yeah, kiddo. There's cake."

Virgil was running towards where he could hear Brains tinkering almost before Scott had finished speaking. He knew the fact it was _his_ birthday cake wouldn't be a good enough reason to keep his brothers off it for long, not when it was his grandmother's baking. If he was honest, he hadn't actually minded having the chance to have some peace and quiet and some time on his own. Living on an island, there weren't many occasions that he could completely escape everyone else.

But now he had had that time, Virgil was more than ready to go home.


End file.
